Zack Knows He's Not Ben
by Daria234
Summary: X-over with Supernatural. Zack/Dean. SLASH and ANGST - don't read if you don't like. Zack meets a smartass demon-hunter who looks just like Ben. Zack reacts in a rational, non-overprotective manner. Or maybe he does the opposite of that.


Written for the Porn Battle on Dreamwidth hosted by Oxoniensis

The prompt was for Zack/Dean, "Ben"

Not evil, exactly. Definitely not a demon.

But he doesn't exactly seem human either.

Dean isn't used to being protected. It doesn't feel right, somehow.

But the blond guy with the super strength didn't seem to be willing to negotiate on this. And for some reason, Dean found it difficult to hold it against him. Even though the protective thing came with a fair shot of control freak and and an even bigger helping of arrogant.

But he couldn't deny that it was nice. Not hunting alone.

Zack was well trained, it was obvious. Dean didn't even realize he was being tailed for a while, and Dean was good at noticing things that didn't want to be noticed.

The first time was in Portland. Zack swept Dean out of the way of the werewolf attack, just pulled him into his arms and jumped onto the roof.  
Jumped, not flew. Not an angel, then. Also, he was sweating, and Dean could hear the pump of his heart. So Dean knew right away that he wasn't an angel.

But then the blond man jumped back down, knocked the werewolf unconscious, and left.

What the fuck? was Dean's thought for most of the night. He went through every story John or Bobby had told him, checked all the best websites twice. Yet he kept coming back to the same thought.

What the fuck?

The next time Dean came close to death was with an angry spirit. This time, muscle dude appeared out of nowhere, jumping in front of Dean and throwing a crowbar at it. This time, Dean was ready.

He held the shotgun in the guy's face and said, "Who are you? I know you've been following me since Portland."

"Since Seattle."

"WHY?"

"To protect you?"

"What are you?"

Blond guy did not like this question, Dean could see. The next thing Dean saw was the floor.

"I'm a fucking human being."

Dean tried a few maneuvers but nothing seemed to phase him. Gasping but still thinking as clearly as he could, Dean tried a different tack: "Okay, so you're human. What's your name?"

"Zack."

"You're surprisingly strong, Zack."

"You're surprisingly weak, Dean."

"Now that's just adding insult to injury, Zack."

Zack took the hint and let up. Coughing still, Dean said, "How do you know my name?"

"I told you, I've been watching you. That's how I knew to use metal."

"Has to be iron, actually."

"So what the hell was that thing?"

"I think if anyone has to answer questions here, it's the stalker."

"I'm not a - just listen, I've saved you. Now you should trust me. It's safer for you to not know about me."

"Well, look, Zack, that's just not going to cut it. So I'll tell you what. You drink holy water to prove you're not evil, and tell me just one thing, then I'll tell you what that thing that attacked us was and how to get rid of it permanently."

"Find the bones. Salt and burn."

"It's.. a little more complicated than - okay, how did you know that?"

"I told you. I've been watching you since Seattle."

"So you've figured out that, these things are, um-"

"Supernatural. Yes. I just don't know what all the categories are. I researched online of course but it's hard to separate the professionals from the, um, the -"

"The loonies."

"Yes. Though if you're willing to fight these things with me, I'm happy to drink holy water, if that will prove something."

"And you have to answer one question."

"I can't tell you where I come from. Or why I can do what I can do."

"Then tell me why you're following me."

"To protect you."

"Why?"

"I can't -"

"I'm not going to carry on and ignore you following me like you're my friendly neighborhood Peeping Tom. Not that it would be okay for you to be a Peeping Tom, I mean not that I'm judgmental but - just, never mind. Tell me why you're protecting me, or my mission in life is to get away from you."

"You won't be able to."

Dean paused. Zack seemed pretty confident. So Dean said instead, "Fine. Tell me why, or my mission in life is to know everything about you. To find out about you and tell the world whatever I find."

Zack gave Dean a hard look, one that would have scared someone not raised by John Winchester, but a tiny twitch in Zack's clenched jaw gave Dean his answer.

"Yeah, you wouldn't want that, would you?" Dean said.

"There are others to consider, not just me."

"Then keep your damn secrets. But tell me why you're protecting me. Did Cas send you?"

"I don't know who that is."

"Did someone else? Did Sammy send you?"

"Sammy?"

"He's my -" Dean sighed, then said, "He's tall. As in ginormously tall. Occasionally has yellow eyes. He may have been ... he may have been acting like a demon when you saw him. But possibly not."

"I'm sorry, I don't know who you're talking about."

"Then tell me why you're protecting me, dammit!"

"Because you look like someone I used to know, all right?"

"Who? Tell me who!"

"My brother!" Zack said, starting to cry angrily.. He put his hand on Dean's face, gently running his thumb down the side of Dean's cheek and jaw. "You look exactly like my brother."

Dean felt a flash of suspicion. But he understood the need to protect. It could pull you in like a riptide, Dean knew.

And Dean felt it again, that overwhelming pull, as Zack fell to his knees, shaking and sobbing. He put his hands on Zack's shoulders and said, as gently as he could, "I'm sorry, Zack. I'm sorry about your brother."

Zack grabbed Dean and pulled him close, and Dean would have panicked if he didn't see Zack look closely into his eyes, pleading for Dean. Zack finally spoke, through choked-back tears, "I couldn't save him, Dean. I couldn't save him from them. And I couldn't save him from himself. From the demons inside of him. From the voices that wouldn't let go of him. I couldn't save Ben, but I can save you. Please let me save you, Dean.. Please."

Dean wiped the tears off of Zack's face. He didn't know what possessed him to give in so easily, what made him feel he should offer himself to a man that seemed on the edge of sanity, a man drowning in regret and anger and loss. But Dean was sucked in, and he knew it.

"Okay. Okay, Zack, I believe you. We'll work together. We'll hunt together. And after awhile, if you trust me, I'll help you with whatever crap you're running from, because you're obviously running from something. We'll be partners. We'll be -- we won't be brothers, but we'll be together. We'll save each other. Okay?"

They were good hunting partners, it turned out. They were good lovers, too, especially after a hunt, when they were each careful with the other's wounds and rough with everywhere else. Dean got used to waking up with his limbs entangled with Zack's. He got used to having weekend-long screw sessions every few weeks when Zack suddenly got like a dog in heat for no apparent reason. He got used to Zack's impossibly powerful body holding him down, Zack's mouth going up and down his torso biting and kissing, Zack's lips around his cock moving in twists and circle, hell, going through a damn geometry lesson. He got used to Zack's taste as well, bitter but also bit sugary. And Dean got used to, and started to downright need, the press of Zack's dick inside of him, filling him up, pushing him to his limit and then some. He started to need the feel of Zack's tight body clenched around him, tightening and loosening with his thrusts in perfect rhythm. Dean started to live his life thinking constantly about the last time - or the next time - Zack and Dean, usually in quick succession, would spill onto a stomach or a chest or a back or sometimes inside the other man, letting him feel the hot seed warm him from the inside out.

Dean never asked why Zack was so eager to fuck his brother's lookalike. He figured that there are some things that you just don't bring up, and if there were one word that would end the relationship, it would probably be 'Ben.'

Dean soon realized, though, that he was not the only one working to keep his curiosity under control. Even though it was soon clear that Zack had a near-perfect memory, and surely remembered their first conversation, Zack never, ever asked about Sam.


End file.
